


A Little Infinity

by DailyDaves



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, RageHappy Valentine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DailyDaves/pseuds/DailyDaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine’s Day is nothing special for Gavin. It’s not because he’s particularly bitter towards it or anything of the sort. It’s because of Dan, who’s currently stationed overseas and unable to so much as call home. Or so he thought, until his coworkers surprise him with something he’d been missing since the day Dan was deployed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Infinity

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for RageHappy Valentine on tumblr!

It was like any other day.

The routine was the same—get up at eight, drive to work with Geoff, get set-up for a video, film, go to a meeting, go back to filming videos.

By now, it was something he was used to, a loose routine he liked and rarely strayed from much. It didn't particularly matter that it was Valentine's day, since it didn't change much for him. The office seemed slightly more alive and energetic than usual, but other than that, there wasn't much of a difference. He could hardly even tell that it was any sort of holiday. And really, Gavin didn't plan on doing anything different today, either. He'd finish work and go home and then start the day all over again tomorrow.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the holiday or was bitter towards it. That wasn't the case in the least. There just happened to be a major difference between him and anyone able to actually participate in the holiday, that difference being a single word—distance.

Distance was what had him awake before seven, lying in bed and allowing himself just a few minutes of time to think about it. One word didn't quite cover it. Distance would've been fine. Gavin could've easily just flown Dan out to Austin or hell, distance probably wouldn't even _be_ an issue if it weren't for The Other Thing. Dan could be here in Austin with him, where Gavin was convinced he absolutely belonged, and not off in some undisclosed location that Gavin wasn't even allowed to know about. It was in those moments, lying alone in the renovated shed in the Ramsey's backyard, the cold threatening to seep in and bite at him, that he let himself miss Dan, and even that was no different.

It wasn't just today. It wasn't just because of Valentine's Day. It wasn't because of anything in particular. It was part of the routine. In those few, cold, sobering moments of the morning, when Gavin had nothing to distract himself or nothing to do, he'd think about Dan and he'd miss Dan and he'd wish Dan was there with him. And then he'd go on with his life, because that was just how it was.

In the end, Gavin had chased after his dream and Dan after his.

Contact between them had been excruciatingly short lately, usually consisting of just emails and video messages Gavin sent every day, and sometimes a phone call if Dan happened to be somewhere with reception. Even that had been rare the past month, ever since he was chosen to go to a place he couldn't tell Gavin about to do a thing Gavin didn't have _nearly_ enough clearance to even take a guess at what it could be, which, in his mind, immediately made it dangerous. There'd been weeks when Dan couldn't even respond to his emails, days when Gavin hardly got any sleep, jumping every time his phone rang, always expecting that call to come.

Thankfully, it never did, but that didn't stop the stress dreams about it. The nights and the mornings were the worst, since they were the times when he had nothing to keep his mind off of Dan, but other than that, he just got on with his life. There was nothing else he could do, and he really enjoyed working, and as long as he never got that phone call, everything would be alright. Because it meant Dan was coming home. He didn't know when, but he was up for rest and recreation and that would mark the halfway point in his deployment, meaning that in six more months, he'd be home for a while. At least until he was deployed next, but that was something Gavin didn't let his mind wander to.

Dan wasn't there. So it was like any other day. Gavin Free got up at eight, drove to work with Geoff, and had gotten set-up to film a Let's Play with Michael, Ryan, and Jack. It was just a normal day for him, and he wasn't planning on it becoming anything different. Dan had even warned him yesterday in an email that he wouldn't be anywhere with reception for a few days and while that had been disappointing, it wasn't something Gavin could do anything about.

"Doing anything tonight, Gav?"

Michael asked it when Ryan was working out connection problems, an unexpected technical difficulty that would probably make for some humor while the rest of their conversations would be cut out in the final product until they could resume filming. The four of them were sat clustered together around the set up they used for games they had to play on the same system. It was crowded, and he'd been one of the unlucky persons to be stuck in the middle, shoved between Michael and Ryan, who was in the process of fixing whatever had gone wrong.

"Well, you know," He was surprised by the question, taken aback by what he knew Michael was suggesting. He'd assumed he'd be going out with Lindsay tonight. While Michael, Lindsay, Gavin, and sometimes Barbara were a group that went out to bars and clubs together on most nights, today was different. It wasn't for Gavin, but for people like Michael and Lindsay, it was. It was a day for them as a couple, and Gavin never expected Michael would take pity on him and invite him out. "I have some stuff to do at home tonight."

He spared a glance at Michael and saw the small shift in his expression, watching the way he frowned slightly, obviously in disbelief. Gavin wasn't a very convincing liar when it came to things like this, but there was no way Michael would call him out on a little lie like that. He turned back to watching Ryan, not expecting Michael to continue the conversation.

"I don't know how you do it."

He almost lost it in listening to Ryan and Jack argue about what to do and how to fix the connection issue. Michael muttered it under his breath, just loud enough for Gavin to catch in between words. Quiet and almost mumbled, like Michael hadn't wanted Gavin to hear.

He spun around, fixing Michael with a hard stare, finding the expression there surprising. Michael no longer had that dead-set unimpressed frown, instead wearing a smirk Gavin only saw when he knew Michael was up to something, the only exception being that Gavin was usually in on whatever he had up his sleeve. Now, that slight smirk was just confusing and sparked frustration in him.

"Did you say something, Michael?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, both of them knowing that Gavin had caught what Michael had muttered under his breath.

Michael just shrugged, "No, I didn't. You hearing things, Gavin?"

Gavin huffed, not giving Michael the satisfaction of any more of a response. His comment hadn't been something he'd expected from Michael, not in a million years. Michael was someone Gavin liked a lot, someone who's company was preferable for Gavin for a variety of reasons, one of those reasons being the fact that Michael didn't give him shit. Michael didn't pity him or care about trivial things. He was different. He knew about Dan; everyone in the office had found out one way or another, Michael being the first besides Geoff to figure it out. Unlike a like a lot of people, though, Michael stayed the hell away from the subject unless Gavin himself brought it up, and he didn't constantly pity Gavin for the distance between he and Dan.

His mumbled comment hadn't been something Gavin had ever thought he'd hear from Michael's mouth, and it was bloody _annoying_ , the single comment sticking with him as he listened to Jack and Ryan's argument, distracting him even as he watched them finally come to a resolution, the frustration and anger at Michael's single sentence only growing as he had to constantly be reminded to pay attention to the game in front of him.

It carried over into hours later, after they were done filming, after most everyone had left for lunch, when Michael was left alone in the office with him, and it was only then that he realized that he'd actually been _upset_ by his earlier remark.

It took a lot to upset him, and even more for something _Michael_ had said to get to him, but it was there, edging at his nerves. He couldn't understand why. It was just a comment, just something his coworker and friend had muttered under his breath, nothing more, and yet, it was _getting to him_ and he couldn't place why.

"You gonna talk to me?"

He heard Michael loud and clear, but acted like he didn't. His headphones were on and he was focused on the screen in front of him, acting as if he were editing the Let's Play from earlier, even though anyone could walk up behind him and see that he was just staring at Final Cut Pro and hadn't done any editing since he'd been left alone with Michael. His food was essentially untouched, as well, and he was nearly positive that Michael had taken his lack of appetite as a sign he was upset.

He didn't respond, not even giving him a glance to show he was listening. He just carried on the façade that he couldn't hear him and was too wrapped up in his editing to notice anyone talking to him. Ideally, that was the reality he wanted, the place he wanted to be in right now, but he couldn't quite bring himself to touch his mouse.

Michael wasn't one to shut up, either, even when Gavin desperately wished he would. He continued to talk, "Goddamn. Look, I'm sorry for whatever I said earlier. Can you just wait an hour before you decide to fucking hold a grudge over me? That'd be incredible."

Gavin fought to keep a straight face and keep acting like he wasn't listening. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, especially when he had no idea what Michael was talking about or if he was just spewing whatever came into his mind.

He heard Michael sigh heavily, and Gavin felt relief wash over him. He knew what that sigh meant. Michael was giving up. He wouldn't say another word as long as Gavin looked too absorbed in his work to do anything else.

That was exactly what he did, then. He forced himself to sit up and start to play back what they'd filmed today, finally letting himself fall back into the routine. If nothing else, he could distract himself like this. He could sit here and listen to his and his coworkers' voices and play director. He could not _think_ and just _do_ and not have to sit there and worry, worry about how he was here, safe, where he belonged, and Dan was somewhere else completely, out of contact and _gone_ , and how it was apparently so hard and difficult that it made _Michael Jones_ take pity on him.

In reality, it was. It was goddamn _hard_. It was hard and he hated it, because he never knew when Dan was coming home or if the next phonecall he'd get would be from him or from the leader of his division with news Gavin didn't even want to think about. It was hard, and he didn't want to be reminded of it. Which was why he hated it when anyone mentioned it, when anyone talked about how hard it must be for him when they had no goddamn idea what it was like. He hated that a lot. He did everything he could to _not_ think about it, to not think about how Dan was thousands of miles away from where he belonged, and everyone around him would occasionally mention it and that occasional mention would turn into a thought edging at the back of his mind, turning into something bigger, something much more horrible.

He wouldn't be able to see Dan today. He wouldn't even be able to talk to him. He was cut off completely, far away, the distance between them feeling more like a wall of unbreakable concrete.

For the first time that day, he actually succeeded. The rest of the world dissolved around him as he forced himself to _work_. Editing had always been a release for him; it was thinking without thinking, something he could do without paying attention to anything around him, something that had the payoff of a product that _he_ put together and be proud of. It was his therapy, and it was what he shoved himself into as soon as Michael shut up, and what got him so lost that he didn't even notice the others slowly migrating back to the office.

He didn't notice, of course, until Geoff _forced_ him to notice.

Geoff had a nasty habit of messing with Gavin when he was into whatever he was doing. He had a variety of ways he'd do it, whether it was grabbing his chair and pulling him away from his desk fast enough to yank his headphones out from the computer, shoving his chair so it'd get stuck under the desk, knocking over everything in the vicinity, or whatever other creative way he'd found to get Gavin to pay attention to him. This time, he opted for a less destructive way.

He was towards the end of the Let's Play when he felt hands on his shoulders. He jumped, ramming his knees into the tight fit of the desk, attempting to stand up due to the pure shock of having someone come up behind him when he least expected it. In a fraction of a second, those hands were gone, and so were his headphones, throwing Gavin abruptly back into the real world and forcing him back to reality.

Suddenly, he was aware of all eyes on him, even though he couldn't see it. There was a quiet murmur, and it sounded louder than anything he'd had in the noise-cancelling headphones. He knew who it was immediately—no one would do that to him but Geoff. Michael would be a likely candidate if Gavin wasn't used to Geoff's antics by now, so that put him out of the picture.

He didn't even have enough time to feel angry. He kicked his chair back, turning around to face the man who'd just scared the hell out of him and then driving him away from what he'd been working on, unsure of what he was going to say or if he was angry. Really, it was usual, something Geoff did every other day, and Gavin never felt any real anger towards it, but today—

"Bloody _hell_."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he was honestly surprised that he hadn't let something more severe slip. The shock from a few moment ago felt like nothing, his frustration at Michael fading into the background, and _he understood_. The realization hit him like the concrete wall he'd constantly been feeling with the distance, his mind going back to what Michael had said earlier, about that little smirk, and about how Michael had the worst trouble keeping a goddamn secret.

From the looks of it, everyone knew. From the smirk Geoff was wearing, that lazy self-righteous expression and the way he smugly had the car keys dangling from his fingers to Michael's distant laughter and then to Jack's easy genuine smile. Everyone had known, and Gavin knew that everyone could keep a proper secret, with Michael being the one exception, since he couldn't keep his mouth _shut_.

Maybe the plan had always been to get him riled up. Maybe Michael's comment had been carefully planned to make him upset, to make the reveal so much better. Maybe he had been supposed to get worked up, to make himself disappear in his work so that he'd be too distracted to see anything else. Maybe everything had been precariously planned, each of his reactions expected and according to what they wanted. And then again, maybe it hadn't. Maybe it'd all been a happy coincidence. He had no idea, and right now, there were answers, but there were more questions than answers. Gavin just didn't care.

For once, he didn't give a _shit_ about those questions or those answers. He didn't care at all. He didn't care that he didn't know how this happened, or why it happened, or what, exactly, was going on. He didn't care that everyone had been in on it and had watched him be worked up and upset over things all day and hadn't said a single thing. One thing mattered, and the one thing that mattered was none of those questions or answers. The only thing that mattered was standing in front of him.

Dan.

Dan was here.

Somehow, Dan was standing in front of him, exactly how Gavin remembered him.

It'd been six months. He hadn't seen him in six months. But he was here—right now. He was here. In Austin. Standing in front of him. Brown hair and brown eyes and taller than Gavin, and exactly how he'd remembered him, all these months later. Six months of disjointed phone calls and static-filled video calls and emails left unopened for days upon days, and now he was standing in front of him, and Gavin couldn't even _begin_ to have the words to say to him. He had nothing planned, nothing prepared. There was no combination of words he could possibly string together to tell Dan everything, to express how happy and relieved he was that somehow, he was here.

Everything seemed like too little and it felt like too late, like he'd been staring at Dan, wide-eyed and open-mouthed for far too long. He was speechless, unable to even breathe, the moments of taking in the fact that he was standing in front of him feeling like an eternity. Part of him wanted to stay in the silence, to just be frozen in time like this so he could fully appreciate everything, from the amount of planning that had gone into this to Dan being here in the flesh, but he knew that he had to say something, to _do_ something.

"Dan," He whispered it, Dan's name feeling foreign on his lips, as if he weren't real. He didn't know what else to say. He couldn't think of anything that sounded _right_ , thousands of words circulating around in his head, but none of them being good enough to formulate into complete sentences. The words got stuck in his throat, choking and suffocating him, making him unable to even breathe properly. Dan. It was all he could think of. Nothing was a full thought. It was just Dan's name, over and over again, the only thing running through his head.

Nothing was right, nothing could express his feelings, and after six months, he didn't want words. He didn't want sentiments or complete thoughts or greetings or anything. He could have all that, whether it was during the infrequent phone calls or exchanged emails. He had words. He had a lot of words. They were all in recorded phone conversations and saved messages. He wanted the one thing that he hadn't had since the day he'd been with Dan at the airport, knowing he wouldn't see him for six months.

He was moving before he registered it, and in that moment, he didn't care about the five other people in the room or what they thought or anything. In his mind, they weren't there and he wasn't at work and it was just the two of them and for the first time in six months, Gavin felt Dan's warmth beneath his fingertips. Before he knew it, he'd thrown his arms around him, standing on the tips of his toes to reach him fully.

The words meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was this, him standing here with his arms around Dan's neck, his face pressed into his shoulders, and Dan's crushing grip on him, his hold knocking the air out of him. He was real and he was here, and Gavin had missed this more than anything and nothing could ever compare to the feeling of being in Dan's arms again when he was _home_ and alive. It was everything he'd ever wanted. Working at RoosterTeeth might've been his dream, but Dan was his dream, too, and so much more, and it meant everything to him to have him here.

"I missed you," His words were jumbled together, coming out choked, his voice breaking in the middle of them. "I missed you so much."

He had no idea if the other's in the room could hear him or if his words were too quiet to be caught by everyone else. He was suddenly acutely aware of their presence, of the fact that they were watching him, but he still found himself unable to particularly care.

Dan's grip was crushing him, his first words to him whispered against him, making Gavin want to cling to him forever, to never let him go back to where he was supposed to be, "I missed you, too. More than anything, Gav."

\--

"I sort of—"

Gavin's voice broke again, just like it had earlier when they were in the Achievement Hunter office. He hesitated a moment, trying to get himself together again. He didn't want a repeat of earlier, when he'd completely broken down in Dan's arms, all in front of all of his coworkers (as well as the camera Lindsay had been filming them with). Dan turned to face him, pausing from his slow process of unpacking his things, which mainly consisted of shoving everything into the cleared space in Gavin's closet, only to find Gavin still stood in the middle of the studio apartment's floor. He caught Dan's eyes for just a split second before flicking his gaze away quickly.

"I sort of wish you'd told me you were coming."

He immediately wished he hadn't said it and he couldn't bring himself to look at Dan's face and see his expression. He didn't want to see the disappointment and he instantly knew that Dan would feel bad about this whole thing, even if that wasn't Gavin's original intention.

"Listen—" Dan started out. Gavin just shook his head and he didn't try to say anything more.

"That's not what I meant," He backtracked, frowning. "It's not—I like the surprise. I really do. I just—Look at us. It's been six months and all I do is take you back to my goddamn apartment. It's not even clean! Bloody hell, I feel—" He had no idea how to tie off that sentence in a way that wouldn't sound absolutely horrible. So instead, he just sat down on the couch, hunched over with his head in his hands, knotting his hair between his fingers. "—I feel like a right failure about now. Sorry. Sorry I sort of suck."

It didn't feel like enough. Six months, only to break down and cry in front of his coworkers, finish working the rest of the day, and then bring Dan home with him. It left him wishing it hadn't been a secret so that he could've planned something or at least cleaned the damn apartment. He felt like a mess. Dan had gone through the trouble of keeping it a secret from him and getting everyone in on it, only to come back to this. It made him feel like a complete idiot, sitting here like this, doing nothing special when their time was threateningly limited.

He heard Dan's footsteps approaching him, felt him pass him as he sat down beside him, the closest they'd been since earlier today. At first he said nothing, but his arm was around Gavin's waist, pulling him against his side, and it felt unreal to be with him like this. It almost made everything alright again. Almost.

"I should probably be the one apologizing," Dan was quiet, voice low in the silence of the rest of the room. It nearly startled Gavin, making him look up, only to meet Dan's eyes.

"Don't," They'd been over this before, too many times, and too many times it had ended up in yelling and frustration and Gavin wishing Dan had shared the same dream as he had. "Please. Don't. Not now. I just worry about you all the time. I wish you were home. For good."

Dan just stared back at him, and Gavin wanted nothing more than to cling onto him like he had before, "I don't really have a home, Gav."

"Here," He said simply, needing Dan to understand for once. With this, it was hard to get through to him, and nothing Gavin could say ever seemed to make him stay. "Right here."

"In Austin?" He almost saw the hint of a smile on Dan's face. "You do. I'm not so sure about—"

"No!" He fought to keep himself level; if there was one thing that could make Gavin Free lose his constant unbothered front, it was this conversation. This conversation, that he'd had too many times to count, that still got him worked up to the point that his voice was threatening to break into a yell. "Not in Austin. With me. You have a home with me, you goddamn thick-headed _idiot_."

He was breathing hard, struggling to keep his head above water and not completely lose it again. He wanted to yell and scream at him until he finally got through to him, until Dan finally understood what it was like for him back here, what it was like to feel like it was unfair and his fault, and more than anything, he wanted to be in Dan's arms again, wanted to feel that he was real, wanted to let everything out after six months of pent up frustration and tension.

So instead of pushing him away or yelling or walking out, like he easily could have, like he had before when this conversation got to be too much for him, he looked Dan right in the eyes, and then moved in, arms around his neck, kissing him for the first time since seeing him again. His shift was fluid, and before he really knew what he was doing, he was kneeling over Dan's lap, leaning into him as he kissed him hard, tongue pushing into his mouth and fingernails digging into the skin of his back.

He didn't want it to end, and for a moment, he didn't think he'd be able to handle it if it did. It felt too right, too perfect, and Dan tasted just like how he remembered and kissed him back just like he wanted. His hands gripping his hips, his fingers curled into the belt loops of Gavin's tight jeans, his hold tight enough that it'd probably leave bruises along his hipbones—It was everything he'd imagined and in the heat of it all, for a second, Gavin didn't feel like a failure and Dan's lips on his didn't feel like the lips of someone he definitely didn't deserve.

It was all alright, and it stayed alright, even as Dan had to pull away from him, the both of them gasping for desperate air. Gavin's hands had moved to clutch at his shoulders and he finally let go of him, realizing that digging his fingernails in like he had was more likely than not hurting him.

"Gav, you're not a failure," He could feel every word against his neck, Dan's every breath making shivers run up his spine. He could believe it when Dan said it, his words feeling like truth against his skin.

"I missed you," There were no other words he could formulate, not with Dan's lips against his neck and his hands on his hips, grabbing him in the way that Gavin had craved so much. He didn't have anything else to say, the physicality wiping his mind, making him even more incoherent and unable to explain himself. He didn't even try, repeating himself again and again, each time more breathy and mixed up than the next as he slowly lost the ability to speak. "I missed you, B. I missed you a lot."

Dan wasn't replying, but he didn't have to. His lips were at the nape of his neck, and his hands were pulling him closer, letting Gavin push against him, the fluidity of their motions ending the moment Dan tried to reach for his belt. He ended up having to pull back slightly, apparently unable to get it undone without being able to see what he was doing.

It was then that the ridiculousness of this all hit him, and the seriousness between them finally lifted, that wall Gavin had felt even after bringing Dan home with him finally completely gone. This was Dan, his Dan, the idiot he'd fallen in love with in high school and the idiot he loved more than anything. He wasn't different or changed. He was still everything Gavin loved and there was nothing, not even thousands of miles between them, that could change that. There was no use thinking about those thousands of miles now, anyways, since Dan was here, home, with him, and had surprised him by showing up in the office out of the blue and now he was at Gavin's apartment, fumbling like the idiot he was with Gavin's belt.

"Oh my _god_ ," Gavin was laughing and he was laughing hard, not even trying to keep himself quiet. It was just too ridiculous—they'd just got done having the conversation that got the two of them upset, and now somehow, Dan was trying to figure out how to get his belt undone and it was just about the funniest thing Gavin had seen all day.

"Hey! Arsehole, you do it then!" Dan looked up at him, his lips stuck out in the pout that Gavin was so familiar with.

"Ah, you're a prick. A prick who can't even figure out how a damn _belt_ works. Come on, B, it's not a bloody _menu_ ," They were back to their usual banter and more than anything else, it felt _good_. He didn't want to be constantly arguing with him over things they'd been over before, and feeling the distance between them when Dan was right here with him was painful. Falling back into the dynamic they had and leaving everything behind was easy now that he'd broken down that wall.

In retaliation, Dan pressed the palm of his hand against the bulge in Gavin's jeans, forcing him to go quiet and rut up against him, whatever more banter he had lost in the short gasp that tore from him. He gave in, sitting back on his feet and undoing his own belt, nearly rolling his eyes at the smirk Dan gave him in response.

Gavin leaned forward, pressing into him as he kissed him again, wiping that smirk right off of Dan's face, grinding his hips down against him. He was desperate for this, after six months of no physical contact, of not being able to kiss him or touch him. Dan's hands were at the front of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, giving Gavin the small bit of relief he was in need of.

He lifted himself up again, back into a kneeling position, letting Dan attempt to push the waistband of his pants down again, regretting his decision to wear tight pants today when Dan wasn't able to push them down any further than his thighs. It was enough for him, though, giving Gavin an incredulous look before immediately reaching for the elastic of his boxers.

"Ah, _fuck_ ," He let slip out when Dan's hand wrapped around him at last, his back arching at the stimulation, hands dropping to his sides, breath coming in short gasps. He looked down at Dan, meeting his eyes through half-lidded eyes as Dan set a familiar pace. Everything about it felt right, from the look Dan was giving him to the way he worked Gavin, stroking him in the fast and rough way that had Gavin's mind completely blank and sending sparks of pleasure up through his spine. It was almost too much and for a few long moments, he didn't do anything else, kneeling over Dan's lap, panting and legs shaking, moans threatening to escape from him.

"What was that?" Dan sounded more than a little amused, grinning up at Gavin, obviously knowing exactly what he was doing to him.

Gavin couldn't respond with anything other than pants, especially as Dan put his thumb at the head of his dick, just adding to the stimulation. Instead, he just glared down at him, his glare made infinitely less effective by the way he was pushing into Dan's hand, doing anything he could for more friction. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his heartbeat only growing quicker with each passing second.

"Goddamn you," He managed under his breath, trying to regain his composure, but finding it hard when Dan's hand was working him like this. He struggled to figure out what he should be doing, since Dan looked more than content with stroking Gavin and watching him involuntarily fall apart under his hands, and the pace was too fast for him to be able to think straight.

"Relax, Gav," Dan was cooing up at him, voice soft and amused and rough with his own arousal.

It felt like too soon, but it was too much, Dan's fingers on him, touching him exactly how Gavin liked, urging him towards completion. Gavin's fingers found Dan's shoulders again, and there was nothing he could do to keep himself from digging his fingernails in through his shirt, and shudder after shudder wracked through him. He heard himself make some sort of embarrassing noise, a cross between Dan's name and an incoherent groan. He wasn't able to hold himself up any longer, and collapsed against him, spilling himself into Dan's hand not a moment later, leaving him panting against him.

Distantly, he felt Dan's clean hand curl into his hair as Gavin lay gasping and clutching against him, his head resting on his shoulder. There was something about the intimacy of it, the thing Gavin had missed the most, the way Dan was running his hand through Gavin's hair and didn't seem to mind Gavin's inability to even sit up, even when Dan was still very much worked up himself—that made him smile, his grip loosening and lips curling into a lazy and genuine smile.

"You back with me?" Dan asked when Gavin pulled away slightly to look at him, Gavin's own smile mirrored on Dan's expression.

Gavin just nodded, and even though their time was limited and Dan would still be going back and still couldn't even begin to understand why it upset Gavin so much that he was enlisted, it was alright. It was alright because Dan was here with him right now, alive and well, and still just in love with Gavin as Gavin was with him, and that made everything alright.

"Hey," He was finding his own voice again and regaining composure. "I love you. A lot."

And then, without hesitation, without Dan even looking away from him, "I love you, too. Nothing will ever change that. I promise."

Gavin just smiled again. It was everything he needed to hear, everything he'd wanted to hear from the moment he'd seen Dan earlier today, and it settled the rest of his doubts, reassuring him that no matter what else happened, he'd still have Dan.

That was more than enough for him.


End file.
